Author's note: Thanks so much for reading! I'm not sure how many chapters this story has in it, maybe only 3 or 4 more, we'll have to see. I really appreciate all the great things you've been saying about it, and I'm trying to brainstorm ideas for what to write next. Please keep your reviews coming!
Chapter Seven
Shane opened his mouth to speak, but no words came; instead, he felt the contents of his stomach rising inside of him. The previous night's alcohol combined with the heart crushing sight of Mitchie made him feel extremely ill, and he rushed back to his own room to avoid being sick in front of her.
"Shane," Mitchie murmured, but he was already gone. She stood alone in the hallway for a minute hoping he would come back, but he never did. He was already holed up in his room, unsure if he'd ever come back out, completely unaware that Mitchie was dying to explain herself. Seeing him under such circumstances wasn't something she'd anticipated, and her heart broke for him; she couldn't' even begin to imagine what he must've been feeling. She slid the card key into Jason's door and reentered the room without a word.
"That was quick," Jason said as the door shut, looking up. "What happened to the snack?" Mitchie glanced at the dollar she was still clutching, throwing it to the ground.
"I'm not hungry anymore." Mitchie was stone-faced, trying to keep her emotions hidden as she spoke.
"Mitchie, what's wrong?" Jason saw through Mitchie's somber demeanor, and she decided to stop fighting her feelings. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks as she walked to the bed and crawled into his arms, noticing the confusion in his eyes.
"I saw Shane," Mitchie sobbed, her body shaking in Jason's arms.
"What did he do?!" Jason demanded, and it was the first time Mitchie had ever seen him angry. She began to cry harder; she had never meant to cause such conflict, and she didn't know how to respond.
"Hey, hey, calm down, please?" Jason pleaded. "I'm not mad, not at you. But what happened?" He held Mitchie tight, trying to wipe her tears away with her free hand, and Mitchie was again reminded of how safe he made her feel.
"He-he didn't say anything…but the way he looked at me…I feel sick." Mitchie buried her face in the crook of Jason's neck, done discussing the matter.
"What can I do for you?" Jason asked, his voice full of concern. "I mean, you can stay here as long as you need to, but tell me what else I can do."
"There is one thing that could make me feel better," Mitchie cooed, batting a wet eyelash.. She crashed her lips into Jason's and used a finger to trace a path down his torso. He returned the kiss for a moment, overwhelmed by her touch, but pulled away as soon as he cleared his mind.
"Mitchie, no, this probably isn't a good idea right now."
"You had no problem last night," Mitchie scoffed, insulted but not discouraged. She inched her hand lower and lower until Jason stopped her.
"You're upset right now," Jason sighed, "Don't try to use me to forget about whatever just happened with Shane, alright? Let's just relax for a while and calm down." He tried to coax Mitchie back into him, but she was having no part of it.
"Just forget it. I've got to call; call me later if you're bored or something." Mitchie quickly removed herself from the bed and yanked the shirt off, replacing it with her wrinkled dress from the previous night.
Don't be like that, I wasn't trying to be mean!" Jason exclaimed. Mitchie knew it was true, but she ignored him anyway. She knew he'd do anything to mend the situation, but all she wanted to do was act selfish and escape the suffocating hotel before it was too late. She let out a little laugh as she stumbled down the hall in her high heels, envisioning the similarities between the current moment and the day she broke up with Shane. As she took the painfully long elevator ride to the ground floor she was hit by another wave of nausea, wondering if the members of Connect Three would trade their hotel stories involving her. The manner in which she rushed through the lobby elicited a few stares from employees and guests, but it didn't faze her. She pushed her way out of the hotel doors and stormed down the sidewalk, a look of determination painted across her face.
"Shit!" Mitchie yelped as her feet slipped on the slick pavement. She managed to catch her balance and avoided falling, leaving her no choice but to slow her pace a bit. Fat snowflakes continued to fall, landing in her hair as she conquered the seven blocks that separated her and her dormitory. It was half past ten when she finally burst into her room, looking like a freezing, soaking-wet mess.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Cassie snickered as the door swung open. She glanced up from the book she'd been reading, her eyes growing wide with shock as she took in the sight of her room mate. "What, Mitchie, long night?!"
"You could say that." Mitchie pocked up a hand-held mirror from Cassie's desk and held it up in front of herself. She understood her friend's reaction now: she looked like an absolute disaster.
"Oh my God! Old, wrinkled clothes, stumbling home in the morning…did you get some last night?" Mitchie ignored the question, boo busy rummaging through her clean clothes for a suitable change.
"I'm going to take that as a yes!" Cassie squealed, excited to have the latest gossip, "So come on, spill it: who's the lucky guy? I know it wasn't Travis; he came here looking for you last night and this morning." Mitchie looked over at her roommate for a second, shaking her head before returning her attention to her clothes. She shed the dressed and pulled her typical gym clothes on, now in pursuit of a pair of tennis shoes.
"You're not going to tell me anything?" Cassie whined. Mitchie was in no mood to talk to anyone, especially not about the events of the previous night.
"No, I just stopped in to change. I've got to go to the gym; maybe I'll see you later." Mitchie tied the laces on the pair of shoes she'd managed to locate, shoving the earbuds of her ipod in her ears before exiting the room. She jogged down the stairs and out the building, picking up her pace to a full-on run once she was outside. Her ipod was blasting the angriest music she owned; she saved this play list for the moments like this when she ran to get past her worries.
The small, on-campus gym was completely vacant when she finally entered, just the way she liked it. She climbed on the treadmill and set it to a steep incline, immediately satisfied with the way her feet pounded on the machine as she ran. Before college she had rarely, if ever, exercised outside of P.E. in school, but it the past year it had become an obsession. Nothing could relieve her tension, take her mind off of things, like working up a good sweat. She closed her eyes as she ran, envisioning all her problems falling right off of her, and opened them to see Travis standing in front of the treadmill.
"Go away," Mitchie yelled over the music being delivered to her ears. She saw Travis' lips move, a stern look on his face, but her ipod was drowning out the sound. She rolled her eyes as she realized he wouldn't stop, annoyed her workout had been interrupted.
"I didn't hear any of that," Mitchie said apathetically, pulling the headphones from her ears.
"Where have you been? Since when don't you text me back?" Travis had fire in his eyes as he repeated his questions.
"Sorry, Mom," Mitchie snarled, "I was busy!" She reached out and hit a button, increasing the treadmill's speed.
"Out partying with all your new rock star buddies? You could've invited me, you know; I've still got my fake I.D.!"
"Nah," Mitchie said matter-of-factly, "My phone was on silent, and Jason and I slept in late; my bad."
"That's not even funny." Travis examined Mitchie's stone face, and it suddenly clicked: she was being honest. "Oh God, you aren't joking! What were you thinking?!" He removed his glasses and rubbed his temples, a nervous habit he'd always suffered.
"Well, I was thinking that he's good looking, a great kisser, the bed was right there-"
"Whoa, okay Mitch, I don't really want to hear it. Get off the treadmill and talk to me, please," Travis pleaded. Mitchie shook her head and looked past him, and that was the final straw. He slapped the power button and held out his arms, catching her as she tripped from the sudden change in momentum.
"That…was rude! Go away," Mitchie huffed in between deep breaths.
"Why are you acting like this? Tell me what's going on." Travis released Mitchie and just stared at her with concern; he didn't want to force her into telling the story.
"You're just going to lecture me again," Mitchie said before taking a sip of the water Travis had thoughtfully brought along with him.
"Well I'm sorry if I can only see the negatives in you sleeping with your ex-boyfriend's best friend. You should both realize how much trouble this will inevitably cause."
"Do I really have to live my life, take every action, with Shane in mind? He deserves a little grief. You know, I hope he's feeling pretty sorry for himself right about now!" Mitchie slammed the water bottle back on the table.
"Oh God," Travis sighed, "What happened?"
"Shane might've seen me walking down the hotel hallway wearing nothing but Jason's shirt." Mitchie tried to smirk, act like the morning's encounter had given her pleasure, but she couldn't uphold the façade. Thinking of the way Shane had looked at her created a big mess of feelings with her. She had experienced guilt, anger, humor, sadness, and heartbreak all in one instant, and she was still reeling from it.
"Don't even try to act like you find that funny, Mitch. I know you better than that," Travis said sympathetically.
"It was embarrassing," Mitchie admitted, "and you should've seen his face. Why do I care so much after all this time? I just want to be over it, all of it." She hung her head a bit and allowed Travis to pull her into a hug.
"We've been in this position way too often this week, huh? All because of Connect Three!" Mitchie nodded into Travis' chest, unable to disagree.
"Can you walk me home?" Mitchie didn't even need to ask; Travis was yet another boy that would do anything for her.
"Absolutely." Travis shoved Mitchie's ipod in his pocket and took her by the hand, leading her out onto the slushy sidewalk.
"You're the second boy I've held with hands with this week," Mitchie laughed, "but let me make it clear right now, I will not be having sex with you!"
"Mitch, that's twisted, so shut up! I don't need to think about you doing that with anyone,' Travis said with a grimace, "but I might not have a choice…"
"What?" Mitchie looked in the direction Travis was staring, letting out a small gasp. She yanked her hand from his as she spotted Jason pacing back and forth in front of her building.
"Don't leave us along, not just yet," Mitchie whispered to Travis, receiving his agreement before she waved to Jason. Travis lingered a few yards behind, just within earshot of the conversation.
"Do you have a second to talk?" Jason asked apprehensively. He looked nervous, like he was afraid Mitchie might run away from him again.
"Sure, yeah, I mean, I owe it to you," Mitchie stumbled over her words, "Sorry, can I just ask how long you've been here?"
"Not too long…I went inside and realized I have no clue which room is yours, but the girl at the desk told me she saw you leave. I figured I'd wait around for a while, and, at the very least, leave a note or something." Jason shrugged, and Mitchie felt insanely guilty.
"I can't believe you came to find me after this morning." Mitchie shook her head; she was certain she wasn't worthy of such treatment.
"There's no way I wouldn't come find you after last night," Jason explained, and Mitchie thought she might've spotted a hint of a blush on his cheeks. "I wanted to make sure you're okay."
"I'm alright, I just-" For the second time that morning Mitchie's voice became caught in her throat, once again thanks to an unexpected sight. "What is he doing here?" Jason turned around to find the source of Mitchie's disruption, spotting Shane trudging across the snowy lawn towards the two. Travis looked around frantically, searching the otherwise empty landscape for a fellow witness; he couldn't believe the scene was playing out before his very eyes.
"Shane, I don't know what you're doing here, but can it wait? I'm trying to talk to Mitchie." Jason tried to dismiss his friend as politely as possible. He saw the pain in Mitchie's eyes as Shane joined them, and he was desperate to diffuse the situation before it was created.
"We really need to talk; I'm sure this is more important," Shane pleaded, pushing his way past Jason until he stood directly in front of Mitchie.
"I can't handle this right now." Mitchie covered her face.
"Please? I know you said when you're ready to talk you'd come to me, but this morning-"
"This morning," Jason interrupted, "you sent her into my room crying! I can't believe you followed me here, Shane, but you need to leave."
"What was she doing in your room in the first place? So much for 'best friends.'" Shane turned to jab an angry finger into Jason's chest.
"I'm right here, you guys," Mitchie said with exasperation, but her words fell on deaf ears.
"You had your chance and you blew it, Shane. Get over it," Jason spat, smacking Shane's hand away.
"Jason, you're pathetic." The truth was Shane didn't think any higher of himself at the moment, but that wasn't the point.
"Do you really want to go there?" Jason asked, now completely worked up. "'Pathetic' is breaking up with someone and then obsessively holding a flame for them for the next three years! 'Pathetic' is not being able to mind your own business. Most of all, 'pathetic' is following me here. Get a life."
"'Get a life?!' I'm supposed to 'get a life' because you're busy trying to steal the one I had?"
"Stop, this is getting way out of hand!" Mitchie said, a bit louder this time, still with no result. In all of her nineteen years on this Earth she'd never before had two boys fight over her, and it felt terrible. The friends were too engaged in their conflict to acknowledge her, yet they had no problem speaking on her behalf.
"You're jealous," Jason explained, "jealous that I finally accomplished something you didn't."
"Poor Jason, always second fiddle, never quite good enough," Shane sneered. He knew just the right way to get his friend where it hurt. "Are you proud of yourself for picking at my leftovers?"
"You two are disgusting," Mitchie said, and this time she was heard loud and clear. They were speaking of her as if she was just another one of their numerous possessions, and she was beyond horrified. She turned her back and walked towards Travis, not caring where they want as long as it was away from their current scene. What happened next was not seen, but definitely heard, by Mitchie: the sickening crack of a fist making contact with a jaw, followed by the sound of a body falling to the wet pavement in pain.